TMNT Music Drabble Challenge
by cndrow
Summary: TMNT drabbles based off random songs from my iTunes library. Rating ranges from K to M. May contain tcest.
1. Intro

Welcome to my TMNT Music Drabble challenge!

Recently, I felt like I was in a writing rut. I was struggling to come up with ideas and write them intelligently. Then I stumbled upon this lovely idea! It said to set your iPod (I used my iTunes library) to Random / Shuffle, and to write a little drabble based on whatever song comes up.

I scoffed at the idea at first, but decided to try it anyway, and thus these drabbles were born!

The stories range from short drabble to oneshot length. There's angst, romance, silly moments, and lots of peeks into their inner minds and hearts.

Drabbles 1 – 10 were done to completely random songs that popped up on my iTunes.

Drabbles 11 – 20 are done to my ten favourite songs!

Some stories do contain turtlecest: they will have the warning at the top.

Also, at the top, you will find which song inspired that drabble. All of those songs can be found on Youtube, if you care to look them up!

Have fun romping through my drabbles! I hope they touch you, make you laugh, smile, and maybe even cry.


	2. 1 Leo and Raph

#1 – Leonardo and Raphael  
>Through With You – Maroon 5<br>mild turtlecest

* * *

><p>It didn't surprise Leonardo, the latest turn of events; so why did it have to hurt so badly? An invisible hand clenched his heart, tightening with every passing day- and with every night that Raphael didn't slip into his bed, waking him from sleep and teasing him to the edge of oblivion, racing him to the edge and pitching headlong over it with him.<p>

Raphael wasn't cold, Leonardo couldn't believe that of his own brother. But as a lover, Leo struggled to accept the fact that Raphael _might_ be.

Raphael had been so patient as he waited for Leo to come 'round to the idea, the possibility of them together. Once that last wall had crumbled under Raphael's relentless attacks and teases, Leonardo had given him everything, all of himself, inside and out. They both had been stunned by the fury of their unleashed passion; had relaxed and enjoyed each other under that warm canopy of presumed affection that came from their physical motions.

But something was different now.

All Leonardo could assume was that the newness had faded, the pure passion flagged, and Raphael had lost interest. While Leonardo had given his heart, Raphael had seemed to have only given his body. Their last argument, two months ago now, Leonardo had pleaded, begged for Raphael to tell him he felt the same. When Raphael had finally said those three little words Leo had longed to hear, they sounded flat, dull, _cold _to Leo's ears.

They were a _lie_.

Over the last few months, Raphael had attempted to tell him again, but always with a sly hand on the back of his thigh, or a not-so-chaste kiss on the neck. With always something _else_ in mind. Finally he'd seemed to have given up, as they hadn't spoken beyond trivialities for weeks now. And every night Leonardo's heart broke just as harshly as if it had been whole just that morning.

But no more. Raphael could break his heart, and keep breaking it, unless Leonardo finally accepted the way things were. It was so hard to let go of the ideal Leonardo had built for them.

He surged to his feet, his steps swift and sure. Raphael may have started this, but he could damn well finish it.

Besides, Donatello had been giving him shy glances over breakfast lately.


	3. 2 Mike and Don

#2 – Michaelangelo and Donatello  
><span>Cherry Blossom Girl<span> – Air  
>mild turtlecest<p>

* * *

><p>It was a nightly ritual. Michaelangelo's hand trembled by his side as he stood in front of the firmly closed lab door. A part of him fought to raise his hand and knock, and another part fought against that impulse. Before now, that last part had always been stronger, and every night Michaelangelo went to bed promising himself <em>tomorrow night, tomorrow night.<em>

There was so much he wanted to say, to do, to feel. There was so much he wanted Donnie to say and do and feel in return, and that's what scared him. That's what made this part of him so strong, that kept his curled fist at his side instead of rapping against the steel door.

If he could just knock and get inside, he felt it would all fall into place; the awkward words in his mind would roll off his tongue, most likely still clumsy and self-conscious; but it would be out! Out in the open, out of _him,_so this pleasurable poison would stop eating away at his sanity. Donnie would have to make a choice, and that possibility scared Mikey. That fear twined and twisted with the other uncertainties, building to impossible heights in his mind's eye so that he felt tiny in comparison.

Leonardo had noticed this obsession long before now; hell, even Raphael had. But not Donnie; sweet, socially inept Donnie, who returned all of Mikey's gifts and compliments and hugs with a beautiful, gentle smile. Did more hide behind that smile than Mikey could guess at? Did Mikey really want to find out if there _wasn't?_

Michaelangelo's fist shivered and shook- and then he choked back a surprised sob of relief as he watched his hand rise to eye level, hovering by the door. He'd never come this close before! He stared at his hand as if it were a separate entity; hoping and praying and wishing it would crash forward with solidity, with all the confidence he wished he had.

The knock that resounded through the hallway crumbled the last of his mental defenses, spilling his love and fears to the floor at his feet; mirroring in his eyes when the door slowly opened.


	4. 3 Raph

#3 - Raphael  
><span>Demon Days<span> – Gorillaz  
>Set in the SAINW universe.<p>

Raphael paused on the last step, glaring at the ladder rung with his good eye. He didn't want to go out today- it was cold, too cold to be out, too cold to have proper reflexes. But something had knocked down the TV antennae he'd threaded up through the sewers, and the chilly wind was preferable to yet another tedious, quiet afternoon in the hole he crawled into every night.

Even from here, he could feel the heavy cold air pushing down on him from the slits in the grate, stiffening his limbs and dulling his mind. He mentally chided himself for his hesitation, but even with the sharp reprimand his body didn't move.

He was about to turn around and be content with a silent evening when the curved walls around him brightened with a tarnished light. Glancing up in surprise, he saw the weak shafts of sunlight reaching down, gently touching his dark jacket and darker soul.

Fury exploded in his mind faster than he could blink, and he gripped the ladder edges to stabilize himself. The Sun. Of course the Sun would peek out from behind the gritty polluted haze to tempt him, remind him of what _he_ would've said at this moment.

He stilled, wrestling with memories and thoughts; trying to remember which were which. Finally he sighed, reminded himself that he was so far gone he probably _was_insane by now, and pushed against the grate forcefully.

The Sun smiled down at him as best it could through the smog of the afternoon, and he glanced up. His eyes watered from the light; those couldn't be tears for the one he'd labeled his own personal sun.


	5. 4 Raph

#4 - Raphael  
><span>This Fire<span>– Franz Ferdinand

* * *

><p>The motorcycle dipped and swerved through the thick traffic, horns blaring in protest as the black-clad rider sped past the stalled cars. Raphael grinned widely inside his helmet as a man leaned out of his window to yell and flip him off, and he returned the gesture merrily. The Nightwatcher had somewhere to be- traffic laws be damned. He was closing in on the area of a reported robbery, and he was sure if the New Yorker knew that, he'd forgive him. Or punch him, which was about as friendly as random New Yorkers came.<p>

Tires hissed as they clutched at the pavement as Raphael made a sharp right turn, and he let off the brakes and gunned it into the alleyway, laughing to himself when a group of teenagers leapt out of his way. Probably exchanging drugs or bodily fluids, but at the moment they weren't his concern. He had a purpose again, and he wouldn't be dissuaded from his goal for a few punks.

He growled to himself as he slid around another corner. The more he saw of this city, the more he was convinced it was diseased; irrevocably ruined by the twisted lusts and desires of the humans that inhabited it. His brothers thought he'd become jaded to the sights and sounds they'd found on patrol, and maybe he had for a while. But out on his own, where his thinking and reflexes had to be clearer and sharper than ever, he saw and felt more than he ever had.

This city both disgusted and fascinated him.

Snorting in amusement, he revved the engine, hugging his body low to the bike seat as he shot through a crossway, narrowly missing a tow truck. Shouts and swears wafted to him on the night breeze, and impulsively he threw his head back and laughed. His brothers might be chickenshits; scared to leave the lair without the mighty Fearless Leader there to direct their every move, but _he_ wasn't.

He made his last turn, the store's alarm already shrieking through his helmet. As he screeched to a halt before two surprised would-be thieves, he sighed silently. The chase was thrilling, but he hated how empty he felt after each victory. Some part of him knew he was guilty of what he so sarcastically accused his brothers of; he desperately wanted Leo's approval.

Dropping his bolo chains to the ground, he stalked toward the two stammering thieves. Dammit, approval or not, he'd come out here every night to make sure Leo would be proud of him when he came home.

If he ever did.


	6. 5 Don

#5 - Donatello  
><span>All The Love In The World<span>– Nine Inch Nails

* * *

><p>It was easier than Donatello would've ever guessed to 'people watch'. Throw on a trenchcoat, a low-riding hat, and keep his hands in his pockets and he could stand outside this small pretentious coffee shop for days before someone noticed the dark shadow that clung to the lamppost.<p>

As much as he loved his machines, his gadgets and his ever expanding list of ideas, Donnie had to admit this was probably his favourite pastime. Standing here, surrounded by hundreds of people and yet so utterly alone it made his soul ache. He had his family, of course; he loved his brothers and father deeply. But they couldn't give him what he saw up here, what these humans innocently took for granted.

Laughing and falling against each other as they walked. Shouting and yelling at friends across the street. Holding hands with someone they cherished, who cherished them. Quick stolen kisses when the stoplights turned red. Hugs and embraces and playful tumbles shared between friends and lovers. All done so naively and openly under the brilliant sky.

It hurt, physically _hurt _to watch them trail back and forth across the streets, blithely unaware of the sharp longing Donnie carried, like a dagger turned against his heart.

He'd be back tomorrow afternoon.


	7. 6 Leo and ?

#6 – Leonardo and …?  
><span>Meet Your Master<span> – Nine Inch Nails  
>NC-17 - turtlecest<p>

* * *

><p>Leonardo gasped with relief as the slicked fingers brushed his tail, cold yet comforting as they left a trail of lube along its underside. He turned his head against the sheets, secretly trying to wriggle the blindfold free, but it had been savagely tightened around his head.<p>

A whimper escaped him as he felt his bound hands slide across the metal of the weapons keeping him in place, and he chided himself mentally. He couldn't move too quickly or too much, or he was liable to bruise his wrists. He'd been trying to loosen those ties since they'd been placed there, and he knew he'd feel a ghost of that tight pressure for days.

The pair of wet fingers slid across his skin again, cupping his ass and squeezing possessively; a shameful moan escaped him. Surely it had been two hours by now? He'd been told to last two hours; if he could only keep his lust in check for a few more minutes, surely he'd be rewarded like he'd been promised.

His cheeks burned as he thought of why the two hour limit had been set. He, Leonardo, the Fearless Leader who prided himself on his discipline, hadn't been able to check himself quickly enough after being tied and teased. The tug of the restraints and absence of sight had been too much stimuli; he'd come hard and fast in his lover's hands, and this was his punishment.

But now… But now he could feel the probing fingers slowly snaking inside him, and surely he could let go now? It was so hard with his smell- _their_ smell- filling his nostrils; his rough hands gliding smoothly over his body; his silky voice reminding him of who his Master truly was.

He groaned at the thought, and he heard a dark chuckle behind him as his hips were lifted.

"Don't get too excited," Donatello murmured sweetly. "It's only been an hour."


	8. 7 Raph and Don

#7 – Donatello and Raphael  
><span>Rocket<span> – Def Leppard  
>mild turtlecest<p>

* * *

><p>You had to be <em>extremely<em> careful about what you said to Donnie. He had a tendency to take statements literally- which sometimes could get you off the hook, and sometimes it would spell your doom.

It was the latter case Raphael found himself in after finding Donnie in his lab tonight. He was in one of his adorable hyper states, which Raphael assumed meant he was on the verge of a breakthrough, a breakdown, or he had just completed a project. With Donnie, sometimes you couldn't really tell…

Donatello had just placed the finishing touches on his latest project, the one that had kept him up late into the night for months and out of their bed; so Raph was pleased to hear _whatever-this-was _was done and Donnie could go back to being his 'normal' mad scientist self. He'd been so relieved he hadn't paid much attention to a question Donnie has asked, and had blithely told him he'd help him with anything.

The grin of pure evil on Donnie's face had twisted Raphael's insides.

That's how he found himself sitting behind Donnie on what he could only describe as a _rocket_; a real live pointy-nosed, red-painted two-seater fucking _rocket_. The crash helmet Donnie had insisted on him wearing did very little to ease his panic. And panicking he was, as he felt the rocket gripped between his legs begin to rumble and shake as Donnie fired it up. He choked back a cry of fear as the vibrations rapidly grew.

Donnie glanced back, his dark eyes barely visible beneath the safety glass. "Raphie?"

"Y-Yeah?"

"Trust me?"

Raphael relaxed against his shell, his gloved hands gripping Donnie's chest possessively. "Ya know I do."

Donatello's immediate grin, however, brought the panic rushing back. Raphael _knew_ that glint in his eye; he knew what that meant, and just how much trouble they were going to be in- _if_ they made it back to the lair in one piece.

"C'mon, Raphie. We're gonna fly!"


	9. 8 Leo and Raph

#8 – Raphael and Leonardo  
><span>This Is Halloween<span> – Marilyn Manson  
>contains turtlecest<br>Set in my _Competition _universe

* * *

><p>They went on patrol most nights, no matter if it had been quiet, or it was pouring or- even worse- snowing. Although, Raph mused as he crouched on the edge of a building, <em>he <em>didn't mind the snow like Leo did. But then, he generated more body heat than his brothers combined. Don had suggested once that Raph got all of Leo's warm-blooded genes.

So it was another night of patrol… of sorts. Tonight was one of the happiest and most dangerous nights of the year for them, and Raphael had been unable to contain his excitement and slipped to the surface an hour early.

They'd loved this holiday since they were children. It was the only night of the year Splinter had let them roam about freely at night, silently watching and herding them from house to house. When it had come time to pick their own birthdays, they'd fought, both verbally and physically, for the right of having this day as theirs. In the end, Raphael may've played dirty but he'd won, and he'd never regretted his underhanded methods, not once. Not when the prize was having his birthday tonight.

Soon, they'd begin the rounds Splinter had taken them on since they were six, but Raphael liked sitting here, alone on his perch; enjoying the cool silk of his black cape swirling around him with the feisty wind. Although they could technically walk about with no clothes on tonight, Raphael could never resist the allure of costumes. Of all his brothers, he was most fascinated with clothing, and had been forcing Leo to dress up for years before they even became a couple.

The crescent moon played hide and seek behind the heavy gray clouds, and Raphael watched the pools of light twist and stretch along the ground, crawling up the darkened trees and sliding silently across the sidewalk. The whistling wind curled invisibly around all in its path, soft caresses that carried the memory of form to the other end of the city and beyond. Raphael could practically smell the magic and wonder threading through the air.

Children and teenagers were already out and about, dressed in costumes ranging from absurd to impressive. Punks and thieves loved this night as well; they believed their targets would be less aware on this night of darkness and whispers, but Raphael knew that suspicion worked both ways. The thugs of the city had proven to be extremely superstitious themselves over the years, and Raphael loved to prey on that fear. The fear of All Hallow's Eve, combined with his deadly ninja skills, made for a perfect opportunity to scare the living daylights out of anyone.

Raphael's mouth curled in an evil smile as he fantasized about who and how they would frighten and panic- then nearly jumped out of his skin when a heavy hand came down on his shoulder.

"_Shit, Leo,_" Raphael hissed, grabbing his hand and crushing it in his own. "_Don't_ fucking sneak up on me like that."

"Preoccupied?" Leo asked casually, drawing back the cloth hood that hid Raphael's face and running his fingers down his neck.

"Yeah…" Raphael breathed, glancing behind Leo.

"They'll be along shortly. I wanted to come find you."

"Oh? Gonna ride my ass 'bout goin' out by myself?"

Leo's eyes narrowed as a deadly smile spread on his face. "Oh I will... later."

Raphael felt himself shiver at the dark promise in his voice.

"But... I thought we'd play a game while we wait."

"Yeah? What?"

"Trick…"

Raphael arched a brow at him, then exhaled quickly when he felt Leo's fingers slide up his tail. He yelped a second later as Leo _pinched._

Leo's other hand shot up, covering Raphael's mouth with a bruising force. "…or treat." He tilted his head forward, his warm tongue darting forward to leave a long, wet stripe along Raphael's collarbone.

"Halloween g-gets better every y-year," Raphael panted against his palm.


	10. 9 Don and Alex

#9 – Donatello and Alexandria  
><span>Nitemare Hippy Girl<span> – Beck  
>very mild turtlecest<br>Set in my _Competition_ universe

* * *

><p>Donnie glanced up in surprise when he heard a noise, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Alex was sweeping the floor on the other side of the lab; when had she slipped in? He'd been so concerned about finishing the coding that glared angrily from the screen he hadn't noticed anything for-<p>

He eyed the clock, sighing. He'd been lost in his own little world for over five hours now. He was so tired, mentally and physically.

He moved his mouse, then blinked when his hand met resistance; a steaming mug of coffee had been placed by him. Frowning, he gripped the handle as he eagerly raised it to his mouth; watching Alex from the corner of his vision as he sipped. As he sat there, feeling self-conscious about ignoring his wife, his mind wandered.

Alex was humming softly as she pushed the broom around, dancing and skipping merrily to the music that was fed through her iPod. She had changed into one of her small, though decent, nightgowns, and it hugged her hips as she twirled and swayed. She looked so deceptively small and delicate as she moved; guilty of being in her own world, much like he had.

He rested his chin in a hand as he watched her sometimes graceful, sometimes clumsy steps, and a thought struck him. He'd witnessed the start of the latest Leo-Raph argument the other day; Leo had asked Raphael just why, why he loved him. He and Lexi had had the same argument several times; why would she willingly live underground with an absent-minded hermit when she could be anyone, be _with_ anyone she wanted?

But he'd never once heard her ask, why did _he_ love _her?_

As soon as the idea entered his mind, memories and thoughts flooded it defensively. How could he _not?_

In many ways, they weren't alike. Oh, they shared plenty of interests, but they often functioned and problem-solved with vastly different paths. Lexi was superstitious- which Donnie found both frustrating and adorable. She firmly believed in her own brand of pagan religion, and kept all manner of odd herbs and dried plants on hand for a natural remedy solution. Leo positively worshiped at her feet for that fact alone.

She was just as ditzy as he was, in her own way. Easily distracted, she always had several novels she was reading; several paintings she was working on; she often made awkward triangles about the lair as she tried to multi-task. She was _terrible_ at multi-tasking, but extremely diligent and thorough when focused.

Occasionally she fell into inexplicable depressions, and snapped at anyone who dared talk to her. He'd been on the receiving end of her sharp tongue; in fact, he lived to not upset her. Not that he was some whipped husband- at least, that's what he told himself. No, they often got into playful spats that usually led to some amazing 'angry sex' sessions. But to move her to true ire was difficult, and he wanted to sink into the floor whenever he accidently did so.

And, of course, the never-ending argument of coffee versus tea always amused them both. She drank herbal teas as religiously as he drank his precious coffee. No matter what he did, said or promised, she refused to even _try_ coffee. Another point for Leo; she and Leo often gave the others snooty glances as they sipped their self-righteous tea.

Yes, in a lot of ways they weren't alike, and that was just the way he liked it. He knew if she was too much like him, she'd drive him insane. Hell, he drove _himself_ insane often enough to know the truth of that.

But Lexi was his balance.

In essence, she was the science of herself- a science he wanted to learn every nuance of.


	11. 10 Mike and Don

#10 – Michaelangelo and Donatello  
><span>Sex Type Thing<span> – Stone Temple Pilots  
>mild turtlecest<p>

* * *

><p>Sometimes, Donatello's behavior seemed erratic, chaotic to his brothers.<p>

But not to Mikey.

No, Donnie had always been an open book to him, and he had never appreciated that fact more than this morning.

An obsession had been growing inside Mikey for the last few years, and he had struggled to label it until about a year ago. He craved Donnie's attention and affection, and only recently he had realized he wanted much more than just friendship with the shy scientist. He _wanted_ Donnie, all of him, in a way he probably shouldn't- but that didn't stop the daydreams and eventual wet dreams. Some days he felt his insides were on fire from the rising passion he desperately kept locked from his family.

He had to hide it; he instinctively knew what their reactions would be. He mostly worried over Donnie's own response. Would he be horrified? Disgusted? Thrilled? Mikey was desperate to find out, but not without some indication he wasn't the only one in this sinking ship.

Then at breakfast, his salvation had come. The honey bottle had leaked onto his fingers as he liberally applied it to his oatmeal, and had enjoyed licking them clean. He'd caught Donnie's brief look of wistful fascination before lowering his gaze, and Mikey knew if he had tried at that moment, he could've levitated on pure happiness.

Now all that was left was to break Donnie into the idea- at this point, Mikey couldn't care less what the others thought. If Donnie was interested- and he _was!_- that's all that mattered.

Mikey had started that day, unable to resist any longer now that the proverbial green light had blinded him. He watched Donnie, with a secretive, sly smile curling his lips. His hands ghosted over Donnie's during practice, gaming, even during the morning shower. Each time, Mikey had been excited to see that same hunger flicker in Donnie's dark eyes before he turned away in embarrassment.

It was eating him up inside, just like Mikey.

That night, Mikey waited until the lair had been quiet for over an hour before slipping out of his room and down the hall. His hand hesitated on the doorknob. His body felt hot and cold, heavy and light; he knew this was a turning point for both of them, and knowing he had that power nearly drove him to his knees.

"_Here I come, Donnie,_" Mikey whispered as he turned the knob. "_Here I come._"


	12. 11 Mike and Don

#11 – Michaelangelo and Donatello  
><span>You May Be Right<span> – Billy Joel  
>mild turtlecest<p>

* * *

><p>"Mike."<p>

The angry authority in his voice made me freeze, the green-hued vial in my hand nearly slipping from my grasp.

"Put. That. Down."

"'Kay." Donnie had said it wasn't 'volatile', so what was the big deal? I grumbled and replaced it among its clones anyway.

"Sit. Down."

I turned, giving him a mischievous smile. I smiled like that a lot at him nowadays. It brought out my dimples; which in a fit of passion Donnie had told me he liked. A lot. He was so _adorable._"Where?" I asked slyly, dancing closer to him. "Can I sit in your lap?"

"Sit on the floor! Gods, _I don't care,_just get away from my chemical table!"

I closed the distance between us, sitting obediently by his feet and tilted my face, staring up at him gleefully. "Happy?"

"No," he sighed as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. I often wondered where he picked up that habit; the only people I saw do that on TV were those who wore glasses. Donnie doesn't wear his goggles _that_ often. Well, not often enough for me- he is downright _sexy_in those things.

"Mike," he repeated, and this time he just sounded exasperated. "Where were you tonight?"

Uh oh. I resisted the urge to slide my gaze from his- that would be an instant giveaway, and Donnie was already perceptive enough without my body language screaming my guilt at him. "Oh, just out. I just _had_ to go and play the new demo for Diablo 3, y'know!" I warmed up to the excuse, hoping to sidetrack him. "I got to play the Witchdoctor _and_ the Barbarian! _Dude!_You shoulda seen the female Barbarian- you can choose your own gender in this one, remember me telling you?- and holy shit on a stick she's got a rack the size of-,"

"Mike." The ring of command was back in his normally gentle voice, and I cringed inwardly. So much for distractions.

I slumped, hunching my shoulders. Donnie was as bad about Leo when he wanted to grill me. I would get no rest until I'd spilled. "I did go to Gamestop. Honest!"

"And?" That delicately arched brow melted my reserve. Damn, Don seriously wasn't aware of all the little totally hot mannerisms he had!

"…I _borrowed_Raph's cycle." I braced myself for the enraged outburst, but was amazed when none came.

"You broke my rack of test tubes earlier today, didn't you? Is that why you left?" Donnie's dark eyes bored into mine.

See, if this had been Leo, I easily would've been able to lie. Leo huffs and fumes under that pretend cool façade, but it's totally easy to slip him a few stories to ease his conscience. But Donnie? He can look at me with those nearly-identical eyes and I just _melt._I just can't refuse him.

"…Yeah. But I cleaned it up!"

"I noticed- you put the remains in the _paper_recycle bin."

"Oh." This was not going well. Those pretty brown eyes were still unhappy. This conversation needed to change gears, fast, before I was up to my neck in trouble. I gave him my sweetest disarming smile that I'd been practicing for years- "I'm really sorry, Donnie. I tried _really_hard to be good!"

"I know you did. Do. Whatever." He sighed again, and I was unable to detect any anger again. Weird. "Mike… You're crazy. Just, crazy."

My smile widened along with my eyes. "Well… Yeah, you may be right about that. I may be crazy." I grinned, standing swiftly and grabbing the computer mouse and holding it up to my face like a microphone.

"No, no, Mike, _don't_start-," He didn't mean it. He was already mirroring my grin.

"-Hey! But it just may be a _luuuunatic_you're lookin' for!" I crooned. "C'mon, Donnie, sing it!"

He shook his head, but didn't miss a beat from my tapping foot. "Turn out the light; don't try to save me…"

I leaned closer, my lips brushing his cheek, relishing the shiver the light touch brought. "You may be wrong; but for all I know, you may be right!"

"I _am_right," Donnie said crabbily, but again, it was all faked. He was distracted, he was happy, and he thought I was crazy.

As his mouth found mine, I knew he _loved_ me that way.


	13. 12 Mike and Raph

#12 – Raphael and Michaelangelo  
><span>Big Dumb Sex<span> – Soundgarden  
>contains turtlecest<p>

* * *

><p><em>Thud, thud, thud-thud.<em>

Now this was an unusual sight. Raphael peered around the doorframe, watching Mikey beat his punching bag senseless. Well, it wasn't _his,_technically, but Raphael had long since mentally claimed the bag second from the left as his own. Mikey knew that, too; perhaps that's why he was using it.

Raphael leaned his head back, hearing the lair door close, and he smiled. Perfect. He padded silently into the room, knowing Mikey would sense him anyway, and stopped just outside his reach. Mikey didn't react to his presence, and Raphael watched him for a few moments before speaking up.

"Y'know, sometimes I draw Leo's face with chalk on there," Raphael grinned. "It really helps when I can't beat his ass in person."

A ghost of a smile flickered across Mikey's face, and Raphael's grin widened- at least until Mikey replied. "Yeah? How would you even know it was Leo? You can't draw worth shit."

"Go to hell, Mike," Raphael scowled playfully.

"Already there." Mikey's temporary mirth faded as his punches landed harder.

"Look." Raphael sighed, inching closer so he could face Mikey. "I thought the joke was funny. Like, _real_ funny. So did Don!"

Mikey didn't reply, his frown deepening.

"But you know Leo." Raphael breathed deeply, then leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms. "Sometimes, I really don't think he looks deeper than th' surface. He thinks I'm just who I show him. But that ain't the case- I mean, the last person here I wanna get all touchy-feely with would be Leo. I'd spill my guts to dad before _him._"

_Thud, thud, thud._

"But Leo's got this idea of how we _should_ be," Raphael continued quietly. "So when I question his orders, or trade chores with Don without tellin' him, or cook with you at two in the mornin', he gets pissed at me. But…" Raphael paused, watching the punching bag swing wildly. "But Leo, he don't mean it _personal._Not alla time. He's a lotta bark and no bite. He apologizes to me a lot after- secretly, o'course, he's got a streak of pride that's as wide as mine."

Mikey finally stilled, looking up at Raphael, his brow furrowed. He knew Raphael wasn't really talking about himself… He was trying to explain, to make him feel better, in his adorable bumbling Raph way. He sighed heavily.

"So…"

Raphael glanced up, arching a brow as Mikey closed the distance between them.

"You liked it?"

Raphael mirrored Mikey's evil grin. "Duh. Hell, didja see Don? He was doubled over! I had to hold him up so he wouldn't fall on the floor! 'Course, dad wasn't amused…" Raphael slid his eyes to the side guiltily. "S'probably why Leo got so upset. Don laughing. Dad upset."

"But it was a good suckerpunch, wasn't it?" Mikey sniggered.

"Hell yeah!"

"So…" Mikey slumped, and Raphael grasped his shoulders reactively. "So I wanna apologize, though. I mean, I _should._But I don't know what to do. I'm still so angry! He didn't have to chew me out like that! I just… Argh! I want revenge." Mikey's nose crinkled in a snarl. "I just don't know what-,"

Raphael jerked him forward, nuzzling his neck roughly. "I know what to do," he hissed.

"Uh- Raph- What-?" Mikey moaned wordlessly as Raphael dragged his teeth across his collarbone.

"I'm gonna fuck you."

"Uh- B-But we're in the dojo- We _can't_ in here- _Ohhh._" Mikey laughed joyously as his shell slammed on the ground- on _Leo's_ tatami mat. "You naughty, _naughty_ turtle!"


	14. 13 Raph and Leo

#13 – Raphael and Leonardo  
><span>The Perfect Drug<span> – Nine Inch Nails  
>mild turtlecest<br>Set in my _Competition_ universe

* * *

><p><span>Raphael<span>  
>Sometimes I just couldn't give you a real answer if you asked me. I mean, it's all there, in my head and heart, but when I try to say it, my train of thought just… it just unravels and I babble like an idiot- like Mikey.<p>

I'm nobody special. Okay, I'm a five foot tall freakish accident trained to be a deadly assassin, but aside from all that. Inside. Me as a person? I'm not special. I don't have Don's brains. I don't have Mikey's curiosity. I don't have Leo's balance- and trust me, Leo values balance. Hell, I'm his opposite in most ways, and I'll never be like him. He's everything that's good, and I'm just… no good.

But he understands that- he wants me _because_ of that. I _don't _understand.

The best that I can do for him is follow. Oh, sure, I bitch and moan about his orders; hey, I'm the guy who keeps him on his toes, keeps him thinking critically. But you should _also _note that in the end, I obey. I follow him even when I don't understand why, because he's my leader. My brother. My husband.

There's just something so fascinating and tempting to break that cool façade of his- that 'Fearless Leader' mask crap that he tries to hide behind. Pushing Leo's buttons has gotta be one of the highlights of my day. The others just write off our arguments as meaningless or petty, but they don't know. They don't know that hearing Leo lecture and yell at me is reassuring, is my greatest comfort. He's not really yelling at me 'cause he's angry- he's yelling at me 'cause he loves me.

* * *

><p><span>Leonardo<span>  
>I've been taught to be, in some ways, a <em>detached<em> leader. To value my brothers equally, to keep track of and effectively blend their strengths and weaknesses. Only with a clear head can I make the snap decisions forced upon me.

But Raphael can give me a quick glance, accidently brush me, or give one of those soft, barely audible sighs and my attention zeroes in on him like a sniper scope. I can tear myself back to reality in a few seconds, but those few seconds are dangerous. I have to constantly fight the urge to rake my gaze over his straining muscles, to watch him dance through his brawling, to move to defend him at the cost of others. In training sessions, I do occasionally let my guard down to watch his brutal, though sinuous, movements. Every time I allow myself this pleasure, I'm reminded yet again of how many ways I love him.

I can keep up my hardened expression most of the time, but inside, I'm melting.

I've fallen far from my sensei's training where Raphael is concerned, I know. He has become everything, filling me inside until I'm scared to realize how little of me I've left guarded. He's the reason I get up early; the reason I stay up late. He is why I push my training, even after all the years of practice. His presence gives me the strength to laugh, cry, fight… to truly _live,_not just survive.

Without him, everything falls apart.


	15. 14 Raph

#14 - Raphael  
><span>Revenga<span>– System of a Down

* * *

><p>Dad asked us a weird question today. He asked us why we do what we do. I mean, he's the great spiritual leader- he has all the answers, why's he asking us? Of course, I was the one who opened my fat mouth and told him that. That got me an extra two hours of meditation for my disrespect, which I am reluctant to admit kinda helped.<p>

I started thinking about why my brothers do it. Well, beyond all the obvious reasons like, oh, I dunno, we don't got a choice, really. But I guess we kinda do- I mean, sometimes it's really hard to drag Don away from his contraptions and Mikey from the TV and Leo from his art. Sure, we could focus on those things instead, like 'normal' people, but then what kind of life would that be, never leaving the lair… never helping those who need us?

I started with Leo. He's the easy one. He gets off on the whole honour and tradition and bound-by-duty crap; probably _literally._Ugh. Anyway. It's been ingrained in Leo since he was a kid to lead, and lead he shall while he still has a team. I think for him, it's just the natural order of things. He's been given these skills, so he feels responsible to use them for good. Simple as that.

Now, Don? He loves any excuse to go topside. He's always itching to try _this_ or _that,_construct and attempt new strategies, test that latest invention. Don 's a hands-on turtle; he wants to see and do and touch and experience everything he can. Our patrols are the perfect excuse for him to bash in a few skulls, then "math-matize" the blood trajectories. Yeah. He does that sometimes. It's pretty creepy, but it seems to make him happy, so we don't say nothing.

Mikey took me a little longer to figure out, but I think it comes down to one thing; he loves violence. He loves hitting and bruising and crushing as much as I do- maybe more. I think it's his balance; y'know, his way of channeling frustrations and anger. All those negative emotions he swallows and hides at home. He's taken it upon himself to be the comic relief, the cheerful, annoyingly upbeat guy who diffuses nasty situations and keeps us all laughing. But that's gotta wear a guy down, y'know? I mean, Mikey can't be _that _happy all the time, not unless he's on something. So he releases all that when we're beating the shit outta thugs and punks.

'Course, I also realize they probably got deeper reasons than these- but I gotta admit, these are the only ones they let me see.

So that left me… I didn't really wanna think about it, but I had another hour to go, so I started sifting through all my memories, and surprisingly, it didn't take me long. See, back when we first ventured topside, we were all awed by different things- Leo still don't get tired of running for hours along those rooftops; Don, like I said, is fascinated by anything and everything new; and Mikey, well, let's just say _bright shiny lights._ But for me, it was the sounds. The human cries of torture and pain; the loud wails of the sirens; the hurried, anxious footfalls. It felt _wrong,_ somehow, and I've wanted to _fix_ those sounds ever since.

So when that abused wife goes home 'cause she ain't got nowhere to go; when that husband finds his cheating wife; when that baby cries and sobs for the food that don't come; when that latch-key kid finds no one at home 'cause no one cares; when that woman screams in a dark alley and those ambulances carry corpses to the morgue…

I am their revenge.


	16. 15 Don and Leo

#15 – Donatello and Leonardo  
><span>Lonely Rolling Star<span> - Kabata Saki (Katamari Damacy soundtrack)  
>mild turtlecest<p>

* * *

><p>I always follow the rules. Well… Okay, <em>most <em>of them- and those that I break, it's only due to innocent negligence. A forgotten plate of food, an alarm I ignore… I don't do it out of spite, like Raph, so I'm usually spared the harsher punishments. I still get the occasional lecture from Leo, but those I don't mind either; it's a pleasant torture to listen to his smooth, caring voice.

A year ago, I'd been doing so well at finishing projects, getting to the dojo on time and eating more than two meals a day that Leo declared I had earned a reward in his eyes. I was astonished at what to ask for; the offer had been open-ended, and there is so much I want and yet at the same time, I am happy with what I have. I took a rain check for many days until I was struck by inspiration while watching Raphael get chewed out for leaving the lair on his own, yet again.

That's how I found myself tucked away in a secluded area of Central Park every last Thursday of the month, sitting under the stars while I caught up on my pleasure reading, or sketched, or simply enjoyed the feel of the grass beneath me. And Leo accompanied me every time, a silent though amusing guardian, as I enjoyed the night air and sights and sounds. We weren't supposed to go out on our own, after all, so naturally Leo invited himself along, since the idea had originated from him- and I always follow the rules. Well, mostly.

The first several outings he was completely quiet and still, content to simply watch me or do his own star-gazing. Finally he brought a book of his own, and we climbed a tree to sit in the branches, leaning against each other to share the nearby strand of starlight. Then he began bringing his weapons and would practice beside me, silent as the mist that swirled at our feet. Twice he packed a small notepad and a bottle of ink, and the quick sketches he jotted down were breathtakingly ethereal. I've always loved the delicate line quality of his art; I've never been able to achieve those effortlessly casual strokes. My drawings are sharp, precise, mechanical in nature; his are organic, flowing, and full of life.

Then, nearly a year after beginning these monthly excursions, Leo spoke for the first time. It wasn't about anything memorable; I believe he commented on how overly spicy Mikey had made the chili that night, and I called our brother a butterfingers for dropping the cayenne pepper in the pot. An invisible curtain parted between us, and from then on we talked incessantly from the moment we left the lair on those nights.

Leo may be quiet, but I learned he had a streak of curiosity nearly as wide as mine. I began bringing small projects, blueprints, or interesting books for us to discuss and look over. He had me teach him the constellations we could see, and those that we would be able to see in the upcoming months. Sometimes I even brought my Bo and had a private practice session with him. It felt good, exercising under the stars, with no agenda other than to enjoy ourselves.

On this particular night, however, Leo seems more reserved than usual. I'm not terribly concerned about it- he and Mike had had a fairly intense fight over some kitchen appliance before we'd left, and I'd already figured it would affect his mood for the evening. Still, I find myself missing his voice as we climb our favourite tree and settle on our claimed branch. So I was surprised when I heard him speak.

"Don…?"

"Here," I say absently as I crack open my book.

"Do you ever get lonely?"

I laugh immediately, covering my mouth with my novel. "Lonely? _How?_ We live with two volatile brothers and a father who insists on us knowing every complicated soap opera storyline he follows."

I'm startled again as Leo reaches over, placing his warm palm on my chest.

"In here," he says quietly, and his chocolate brown eyes burn into mine with an intensity I rarely see outside the dojo.

Oh. That. "Sometimes."

A rare, gentle smile curls Leo's mouth, and I'm fairly certain he can feel my heart skip a beat. "I used to, but I don't anymore."

I wonder if I should ask, but I'm suddenly, irrationally afraid of moving; as if participating in the conversation further is going to ruin this somehow. Fortunately, Leo continues without a prompt; and when he does, his voice has dropped even lower.

"I've grown to need these nights with you, Don. Not for the relaxation. Not for the time away from the lair and our family. I-I _need _time with you, Don." I see the first note of hesitancy flicker in his gaze, and I'm desperate to soothe it.

"I do too," I reply urgently, interrupting his next words. "It's… It's…" I'm at a loss; I can't categorize my surging emotions, strong as they are. I rub the bridge of my nose nervously as I scream at my mind to make sense of the rapidly changing situation.

Memories of our nights together collide and combine, assimilate and merge until they're one large mass of emotion, and with a soft sigh I finally identify it. I glance up, prepared to blurt my revelation- damn the consequences- but the depth of affection shining in his eyes steals my breath. When his hand brushes my cheek, I lean hungrily into the touch even as I reach out to him.

"Don…" The sincerity in his voice makes me shiver. "You have become my star."

* * *

><p>[Author's Note]<br>Okay, I just can't seem to write LeoxDon and not make it full of sugary gooey-ness! Oh Leo, you're such a romantic at heart.


	17. 16 Raph and ?

#16 – Raphael and …?  
><span>Fallen Embers<span> – Enya  
>mild turtlecest<p>

* * *

><p><em>You once told me that in the end, all we really have are our memories. I didn't understand at the time, so I pushed that little tidbit to the back of my mind where it was all but forgotten.<em>

_Sitting here on the edge of the cool brick under the lonely night sky, I remember how solemn you looked when you told me that. It's not a happy revelation._

_I like _making_ memories. Living in the moment, not thinking past what we'll have for dinner or who I'll have to wrestle for the remote. Or, heh, teasing you into an argument just so we can get to the make-up sex._

_But_

_Damn it_

_But what am I supposed to do when we can't make memories anymore?_

_I remember you bringing me up here, sitting right here as we watched the sun crawl up the sides of the building. We both skipped practice that morning, and we felt so guilty and happy, even when the others freaked out when they found us gone._

_Mostly we would sit here at night. It's not a case of where we did it so often the times flow together; no, I can remember each and every night like it was yesterday. That one time when you never said a word. Once when we talked and laughed so hard our faces hurt. Once when we argued 'til we were exhausted. Once when you told me you loved me. Once when you_ showed_ me just how much._

_But we can't do that anymore. I can't talk and laugh and argue and love without you here. What am I supposed to do?_

_You told me to keep my dreams close to my heart, to follow them, to never deny myself them._

_But what am I supposed to do when you _are_ that dream?_

Raphael crumpled the paper and tossed it on the small fire next to him. Sighing, he leaned back; staring at the stars as he gently wiped his face with the worn bandana in his hands.


	18. 17  Mikey

#17 - Michaelangelo  
><span>Put Your Lights On<span>– Santana, featuring Everlast

* * *

><p>I wasn't fooled at an early age; I knew our life would be hard, stressful, dangerous. Splinter made that absolutely clear from the beginning. There were times he would let us be kids- and times when we were kids no matter what- but that didn't dispel that oppressive cloak of uncertainty that blankets our family.<p>

We've all taken to his teachings in different ways. I think it hit Leo the hardest, and not necessarily for the reason you'd think. Sure, he's the leader, he has the authority, he has the final say, blah blah. But Leo's nature would've taken to the ninja ways without the benefit- can you call it a benefit?- of being chosen to lead.

Anyway, the skills we had to learn so we could survive just added to the depressive state of our own exile from the surface. So, since I was old enough to understand, I've tried to be their light. Not the harsh glare of Donnie's track lighting and the dusty, naked bulbs- no, I was determined to be the healing, dynamic sunlight of our home.

They joke and say I've got ADD- which, okay, I might sometimes. _Sometimes!_ I mean, I pay attention when it's _important._But I also remember to shine, to not let them get dragged into the darkness when it's important, too. They don't understand that if I don't joke and tease and whine, they could easily slip into that bottomless pit.

They also whisper to each other; at night, when they think I can't hear. They wonder if there's something wrong with me, or puzzle over the motivation behind my latest prank, or ask why I don't take things seriously enough.

It's hard to keep shining for them at times. Leo can give the best "_You're so screwed_" glares, and Raphie often thinks my jokes are out of date and lack tact- like he knows what tact is!- and the only time Donnie swears is at me. And on top of all that, my own fears drag me down, the nightmares swallow me when I sleep, gruesome memories haunt me.

But dudes, let me tell you; your life isn't worth living if you aren't somebody's light.


	19. 18 Leo and Don

#18 – Leonardo and Donatello  
><span>Something To Talk About<span> – Bonnie Raitt  
>mild turtlecest<p>

* * *

><p>My brothers need to learn to be better ninjas. Just the other day, I caught a whispered conversation between Mike and Raph, and I was able to meld into the shadows and creep closer to hear their hushed tones.<p>

I am not normally an eavesdropper; I do my best to respect my brother's privacy in our cramped home. But those two had been talking just out of earshot for weeks, and direct questions just made them fall silent with equally stubborn expressions.

"Did you see them this morning?" Mikey hissed, and Raphael responded with a soft chuckle. "I mean, dude, did you see the stare?"

"What, right after Don came in? Yeah." A slight scuffling sound before Raph continued. "You'd think they'd at least _try _to hide it now. They obviously don't want us to know."

"And the way they laughed when I fell," Mikey grumbled. "I mean, after a bit, they just looked at each other and... kept laughing. Like it was their own private little dojo alla sudden."

"'Xactly." I heard him huff gently. "I mean, I don't care, really. I just wish they wouldn't treat us like we're _stupid._ I ain't stupid, and you ain't neither."

Mikey snorted. "Yeah. I almost said something when Don was patching Leo up the other day-,"

"_Ha ha,_ I know, right?"

"-All googly eyed over his stupid little scrape, and I was _bleeding! I_ was the one bleeding!"

"Oh but you just _know _Fearless gets Don's best treatment- behind closed doors," Raphael sniggered.

At this point I stole away, my brain a mix of bafflement and shock.

* * *

><p>Try as I might, I couldn't keep Mike and Raph's conversation from circling my thoughts for days afterward. At first, I was still convinced they were wrong; that they were reading entirely too much into a perfectly innocent situation. They had overactive minds, and they looked for entertainment where they could find it.<p>

But then, one morning just after practice, I saw what _they _saw. I complimented Don on his technique- he had disarmed me twice that session, surprising and pleasing me to no end. His shy, grateful glance lasted seconds longer than necessary, his cheeks darkening at the praise, his hands fluttering uselessly at his sides. There was a spark of interest I'd never experienced before.

I devoted all my mental energies the rest of the week to this new possibility. Whether I had imagined that moment between us or not, Donnie had suddenly become my focus. I was thinking about him all day, and couldn't escape him in my dreams at night.

Finally, I was tired of thinking. I wanted action. I wanted to know what _he _thought.

I quickly made my way to the garage after finding the laboratory empty. Donnie was bent over a salvaged laptop, carefully prying bits and pieces from the motherboard. The familiar sight relaxed my anxiety for only a few seconds until I wondered just how to introduce this topic. Squaring my shoulders, I walked up to him and turned down the radio, and he glanced up in surprise.

"Don, we need to talk."

He watched me with an arched brow as I dragged a stool over and sat; waiting patiently for an explanation. I took a steadying breath before I blurted my next words.

"Mike and Raph- they think something's going on, and I want your opinion on this."

"You'll have to clarify," Donnie said, looking puzzled. He placed the computer guts on the table, giving me his complete attention. I suppressed a shiver- Donnie had an intense stare when he used it.

"They- They think we're-," Damn it all, I never stutter. Why was I so shaken? "They think we're… _together._" When Donnie's expression didn't change, I added hastily, "Lovers."

I watched Donnie's throat bob as he swallowed hard, his eyes widening a fraction, and it hit me. His nervousness _was _because of an attraction, not just because he was an inherently humble and quiet person. I reached out then, covering one of his oil-slicked fingers with my own.

"I thought it was ridiculous when I first heard them," I continued quietly. "But then… I began to watch you. Think about you. And now… I can't stop." I felt heat on my face, but I pressed on. "You- You act so nervous at times. And now I'm hoping that- that it's because of- of what they thought. Because you would want that w-with me." I groaned inwardly; that had to be the absolute worst speech I'd ever given. I sounded like a bumbling idiot-

My breath caught in my throat when Donnie squeezed my hand, that delicate, shy smile curling his lips.

"Let's give them something to talk about."

* * *

><p>[Author's Note]<br>See? I told you. Sugary gooey-ness. :3


	20. 19 Leo

#19 - Leonardo  
><span>Someone Else's Star<span> – Cam Clarke  
>mild turtlecest<p>

* * *

><p>It was a bad habit, Leo knew, and the ultimate form of hypocrisy on his part. He couldn't count how many lectures he'd given the others for sneaking topside alone; yet here he was, perched on their favourite lookout point, chilled by the night air, the stars his only companions.<p>

Leo also knew his reason for coming was completely foolish, but night after night he found himself slipping silently from the lair once he made sure everyone was asleep- or in Don's case, was so engrossed in his work he was oblivious to his surroundings. He took up his silent vigil on the same worn brick wall, tilting his head back to gaze at the endless depth of the night.

They'd seen a movie recently where a lady had chosen one of the many bright, twinkling stars in the sky and had made a wish, which came true in the course of the movie. Leo had immediately dismissed it as a silly notion, but as he watched, he had to admit… It was something he hadn't tried.

Nearly a year ago now, he'd come to the realization that he loved his brothers in more than a platonic manner. The discovery about his inner feelings had upended his world, and he had spent several weeks trying to _not _love them so dearly. He passed that notion off as hopeless after a while, and had tried to bury the emotion over the next few weeks. That hadn't helped either, for the layers seemed to build while he was trying to ignore them.

Finally he'd given up trying to control the emotions- they were emotions, after all, and those usually didn't follow any reasonable logic. He was able to hide it well enough, and he took that small victory for what it was.

Since he couldn't close the metaphorical door he'd passed through, he set about examining himself relentlessly; _why _he felt this way. In the end, he'd been quite amused at his conclusions.

With Raph, it was definitely more a _physical_ attraction. They were all in excellent shape, to be sure, but there was something hypnotic about the way Raphael moved. He was the shortest of them all- thought not by much- and by far the stockiest. His muscles were impossibly well defined without being overly so, and those eyes… Those fierce, golden eyes that could literally pin him where he stood. Leo usually allowed himself a few seconds after morning practice to watch the sweat trail down his skin.

His attraction to Donnie was on the other end of the spectrum, though Leo had to admit his delicate olive skin was the most beautiful colour he'd ever seen. His curious mind was enthralling; the hundreds of movie and novel quotes he could recall for any situation, the endless facts he'd stored for every machine that passed through his hands, and his patient attention to detail. At times, he felt Donnie simply lived on an entirely different mental plane; if he'd been able to live topside, Donnie would have been completely unreachable to him, he was certain of that.

Mikey was somewhere in the middle, an odd compromise of both physical and mental allure. Like Raph, Mikey liked to threaten his enemy's personal space, and as such his arms were long, lithe and sculpted. His mind just as sharp and inquisitive as Donnie's, though he certainly expressed those qualities in a different way. Mikey was always quick with a teasing quip or clever joke for every situation, which was a credit to his natural wit. His youngest brother was also the most affectionate of them all, which on more than one occasion had made it difficult for Leo to keep himself in check.

With this knowledge in hand, he set about testing the others. And now, months later, he'd only been disappointed and depressed time and time again. Raph missed many of his cues for a training run together, preferring to spend his spare time with others. He loved chasing Mike around the lair, assisting Don in the garage, or even meeting up with Casey to do god knows what. Donnie, precious Donnie, was simply oblivious as far as he could tell. Leo didn't have more than three moving parts and didn't come with a manual as thick as his hand; so Donnie didn't notice any of the extra, gentle attention Leo gave him. Though Mikey picked up on the subtle hints, he thought they were uproariously funny, and had made flirting into a game between them. At first Leo had been thrilled, but his spirits flagged as day after day there was no change in the casual jokes Mikey tossed his way.

So he found himself, sitting here, wishing on a star like a fool. Night after night, he whispered, pleaded, cried and shouted his wishes to the uncaring heavens. And day after day, he awoke to the same lovable, ignorant brothers. But this burning passion would not be denied, and thus he continued to cling to this last hope.

By now, all he could figure was he was wishing on someone else's star. Surely, though, in the end he would find his own, and he couldn't wait to see who would love him.

* * *

><p>[Author's Note]<br>This is my favourite drabble I've done yet, and I'll explain why.

This, of course, _had_ to be a Leo-centric drabble. For Cam Clarke **is** the voice of Leonardo himself, from the original cartoons. Dear god, I love that man's voice.  
>Leonardo, and thus Cam Clarke, have been my personal heroes since I was a wee girl, sitting on the floor as close to the TV as possible, clutching my Leo plushie to my chest as I watched the old cartoons with wide eyes.<p>

At the risk of oversharing, I'd have to say this is one of my absolute favourite songs (beyond the "OMG LEO SINGING" bit) because it gives me a tiny flame of hope to cling to. I'm a rather cynical 27 year old in the love department... I've decided after many failed, depressive, and sometimes brutal relationships that there simply isn't someone out there who's meant for only me. There is no man or woman out there who would date, marry, and simply _put up_with me on a regular basis.

But this song reminds me that maybe... Someone, somehow, someday...


	21. 20 Raph and Don

#20 – Raph and Don  
><span>I Can Love You Better<span> – Dixie Chicks  
>mild turtlecest<p>

* * *

><p>I jumped when I heard the lab door slam shut. Frowning, I tried to finish typing a sentence, but my chair was jerked and rolled backwards away from the desk, nearly pitching me out of it. I was pivoted as my neck was roughly tilted back, hot breath flowing across my shoulder. I closed my eyes, suppressing a shiver.<p>

"M-Mike," I said as sternly as I could manage, "I am _working_ right now. You _know _that, you little troglodyte, so-,"

"Guess again."

I froze at the gruff voice, then began trying to push away. "_R-Raph?_ What- What the _hell-?_" An emerald hand covered my mouth, craning my head down enough so that I looked back into narrowed golden eyes. The intensity burning in them made me shiver instinctively again.

"No. Yer gonna shut up and listen to me," he hissed, and I caught a flicker of emotion in his eyes; too quick to register. "I know what ya go goin' with Mike. Hell, even Leo does, and he's thicker 'n these walls."

I nodded dumbly, shaking his hand slightly.

"Been goin' on for almost five months," he continued, and I wondered briefly how he knew that- Mike and I had been extremely careful in the beginning. "Five months, Don, an' guess what?"

I raised my brows in a desperate, silent question.

"You ain't changed a bit," he growled. "Five months. No change. Makes me really angry, Don."

Blinking in confusion, I reached up to try to tug his hand away, but I stilled obediently under another glare.

"Mike, on the other hand, walks around like he's _king of the fuckin' world._ Like his shit don't stink. Like he's suddenly God's gift to turtles everywhere." Raphael leaned in, their noses inches apart. "Well, guess what, Don? He ain't _none _of those things. And he's got you tied around his fucking finger, making you believe he's the best you can do."

I struggled in earnest at this, my voice muffled against his hand, but he was relentless in his hold.

"And I got to thinking. I got to thinking, he ain't treating you like you _should_ be."

The sudden gentleness in his tone made me freeze again, my brow furrowing incredulously. Raphael was concerned about me? He was- What was he getting at?

My train of thought was interrupted as he closed that small distance left between us, his mouth sliding down the side of my cheek, a sharp contrast to his still pressing hand.

"Don, what I'm 'bout to say, I ain't never been more honest in my life," he whispered. "So listen good."

I nodded emphatically, his hypnotic eyes pinning me to the chair more effectively than his hand.

"I think you're wastin' your time and talents on him," he breathed against my face. "_You_ should be on cloud nine ev'ry day. _You_ should be the one walking around like yer on top of the world, not _him. You_ should be the one wearing that adorable dopey smile ya got."

I parted my mouth, noisily breathing through both it and my nose as I began to understand.

"I'm just askin' for one chance," he continued urgently. "I know I can make you forget all about him. When we wake up in the morning, this stupid little spell he's trapped you in will be gone."

His hand dropped to my shoulder, and I panted at the sudden release. "R-Raph, I... I'm _with_ Mike, I'm not just going to-,"

"One little chance," he repeated, his head dipping, and I moaned when I felt a warm tongue lick at the erratic pulse in my neck.

"Don, whatever he does… Whatever it takes… I swear to you, I can love you better."


	22. 21 Its Raining Again

In this third round of ten music-inspired drabbles, I had ten of my DeviantArt friends give me one of their favourite songs for me to write from as a request.

* * *

><p>#21 - Donatello and Leonardo<br>It's Raining Again - Skylar Grey  
>mild turtlecest<p>

* * *

><p><em>Plip, plip.<em>

_ Plip, plop, plop._

Donatello muttered under his breath, hunching over the tangled web of wires he was sifting through. _Great, just great._

It was only sprinkling, but he could smell the rain in the air, and he knew he had to work faster. He'd already lost one wire due to impatience- he'd accidently stripped it when trying to retrieve it from the mess at his feet, and he needed as many _intact _one as he could find. Two fuseboxes had blown, one day after another, and he was beginning to worry the _main _fuse would blow if the problem was originating there. If that happened, they would be without power until he could fix it.

He huffed as he bent low again, desperately trying to follow the red wire in his hands back to its stubborn knot. Silently he cursed his fingers, glaring angrily at them. As dexterous as they had been taught to be, the fact remained that their fingers were larger than average, and not suited to delicate tasks. He'd learned to overcome that through the years by way of tools and cleverness, but it always frustrated him when he was at the junkyard. So much trash and treasure buried and tangled together; those rare finds sometimes nearly impossible to separate from the rubbish. Like today.

The wind was picking up, the rain falling more insistently, and he curled protectively over the wires. If he could just find where this damn wire was caught, he had both ends free, _why_ was it mocking him? _Why_ did knots anger him so? _Why _did it have to start raining harder?

It hadn't been a good week; most notably one of Mikey's pranks gone wrong, Raphael taking a rare spill in the garage and upsetting a can of paint that went _everywhere_, and he had accidently broken Splinter's favourite teacup when doing the dishes.

The only thing that had kept him sane was crawling into bed beside Leo every night and listening to his heartbeat.

But Leo hadn't offered to come along on his trip to the junkyard, and he'd been too shy to ask. He snorted at himself. He'd been sharing Leo's bed for how long- four months?- and he was still too timid to ask him for company? He felt so silly, but the shyness had won in the end, and now he was wet and miserable and alone and this _damn cord wouldn't come undone_-

A brilliant flash blinded him for a few seconds, and he braced himself for the clap of thunder that quickly followed. He felt the vibrations travel through his body, and his irritation grew. If he could just get this ideal wire untangled, he'd claim this small victory and leave. With the new goal in mind, he wrenched mightily.

The wire snapped.

"No, no, _no!_ You stupid piece of _shit!_" He straightened and kicked the bundle, then shook his foot angrily when it got caught in the tangle. He hopped a few feet away, finally prying it loose, then froze when he heard a voice.

"I worry about you when you curse like that."

"I worry about myself sometimes," Donatello sighed. He gestured at the limp heap.

"Want some help?" Leo asked evenly as he closed the distance between them.

"It's ruined," he replied miserably. "It was perfect for what I needed, but the storm rolled in and I… I've been so stressed, and I ended up breaking it."

Leo touched him then; a gentle caress up his shoulder, and Donnie glanced up into warm brown eyes.

"Now the trip's a total waste," Donnie continued irritably. "Everything's going to be soaked in a few more minutes- ourselves included, by the way. I shouldn't've come-,"

"Why does it have to be a waste?" Leo asked. He smiled one of those rare, soft smiles that only Donnie seemed to bring out.

"Because I have nothing." Donnie gestured at the ground, scuffing a foot. "Forty-five minutes out here and I've found nothing of value."

"Mm. Well, I have, and I've been here three minutes." Leo's hand curled around the back of Donnie's neck, his smile widening when the genius's cheeks darkened.

"Cheesy much?"

"I just want to cheer you up." Leo leaned forward, gently brushing their noses together before looking up. "It's raining again."

Donatello opened his mouth to thank him for stating the obvious, then snapped it shut. The dreamy look in Leo's eyes was already beginning to melt his tension. "Yes, so it is."

"You knew it was going to rain, didn't you?"

Donnie tilted his head back, blinking against the raindrops. "…Well, yes, I did check the weather before I left-,"

"So…" Leo murmured, drawing him into his arms, "I don't think you came out here to find a silly wire."

"I did," Donnie protested.

"That isn't your only reason," Leo chuckled, resting his head against Donnie's. "You know I love the rain. Next time, Donnie, please ask me to come. Even if it's not going to rain."

Donnie nodded solemnly.

They stood there in silence, the primal sizzle of thunder and pounding rain cocooning their bodies as they held each other.

"It _would've_ been a waste," Donnie whispered, "if you hadn't come."

* * *

><p>Requested by <strong>MutantRumbler<strong> of DeviantArt. Love ya, girlie!


	23. 22 Crash and Burn

#22 – Raphael and Donatello  
><span>Crash and Burn<span> – Savage Garden  
>mild turtlecest<p>

* * *

><p>I had to get out. I couldn't stand Leo staring at me with those sad, self-righteous eyes for a second longer, so I ran. I ran out the door and didn't stop running until I was gasping for breath.<p>

It had ended between Leo and me a month ago. I'd fought it, and him, briefly; but I'd already known what little we'd had was already lost. I tried my best, it didn't work; I was more than ready to forget and move on. But not Leo, oh no. Goddamn bastard is more wishy-washy than a Twilight groupie, and I'm seriously beginning to think he regrets breaking it off.

Me? I don't. He doesn't understand that once I've made my mind up, I've _made my mind up_, and that's that. I may appear to make snap decisions to my brothers- they've said as much, Leo included- and maybe I do, but I _don't_ make them lightly.

And now Leo's all soft and apologetic and sweet to me, and I hate him for it. He needs to fucking grow up and stop dragging me down. Dragging all of us down, actually, 'cause his attitude is grating on everyone's nerves. I've told him time and time again it's over, we're over, and yet every morning I keep waking up to this Leo I don't know.

Today I just… snapped. I said exactly what was on my mind- how _childish _he's acting now that he's broken his 'toy' and wants it back. His hurt expression is haunting me the rest of the day. The air became suffocating; I couldn't sit still; and Don and Mike's sympathetic words did _not_ help.

So I had to get out. I had to run until my lungs ached and my legs burned. Until I had enough physical distance from Leo's insanity so I could simply _breathe_.

But then I felt someone closing in on my position, and I knew it was one of my brothers. I tensed, trying to prepare for yet another emotional assault. If it was Leo, so help me God, I was going to punch his lights out-

"Raph?"

I sighed in relief and slumped back against the wall. At least it was Donnie. Of anyone, I'd rather see Don. He didn't pry, he didn't act like he was king of the fuckin' lair. He didn't _judge_. I waved in reply as he came around the corner, gave me one of those shy smiles and sat beside me.

We sat in silence for a long time- hours, maybe, I've never been too great at keeping track of time. Neither was Don, actually, and that thought made me smile- a real smile.

"Raph?" His voice wasn't timid this time; it was stronger, filled with purpose, and I glanced at him in surprise.

"I'm sorry you had to leave."

I shrugged, gesturing helplessly. "Can't help it. I just- Lately I just don't wanna get up and face the day. Leo an' me are a trainwreck, Don, and I can't stand him puttin' me through it again every goddamn day."

"He'll get over you," Donnie replied quietly. "It just takes time. A lot of time."

I arched a brow at him, confused by the _way_ he said that. "That so?"

He nodded, his dark eyes finding mine in the low light. "I still haven't," he admitted quietly.

Wait, what? I blinked at him, breathing through my mouth harshly as my mind sped up to his words.

"I'm here for you, Raph," Donnie continued just as softly. "I just don't think you ever saw how many ways I'm here."

I grabbed his shoulders, gripped with an unnamable fear. "If this is some sort of pity stunt, you can forget it-," I froze. The frank admiration shining in his eyes made my breath catch in my throat, made my stomach crawl up to meet it.

"I know sometimes you feel like the walls are closing in on you," Donnie whispered. "I know sometimes it's hard to breathe in the lair for you. I know you have to run. Raph, I- I want to be the one who gives you the wings to your freedom." He swallowed hard, biting his lower lip before adding, "I know you feel alone. I do too. But neither of us have to anymore, if you want."

"I- I don't want to," I said brokenly. "I just want someone to understand me. But hell, how can I ask that when I don't understand myself?"

"I do," Donnie replied solemnly. A hand cupped my cheek, and I automatically leaned into the touch. "You're not that complicated, Raph. Honest. I want you for who you are; I don't want you to change."

Shallow breaths rattled in my chest, tightening my heart. I'd had that trust broken recently. I wanted this, I wanted this closeness, this comfort, but-

"It's soon, I know," Donnie said, and I scowled at him for reading my mind- or probably my face. "Nothing has to be rushed. Nothing has to be done today, or next week, or next month. I'm patient, Raph. Take your time. I'm here, and I'll always be here."

The soothing words were ambrosia to my soul, and an aching hurt I hadn't known was inside me welled and overflowed. I lowered my head to his shoulder, shivering from the rush of emotion.

"I'm here, Raph," he repeated, and I clung to those words like a lifeline. "If you need to crash, then crash and burn. You're not alone anymore."

* * *

><p>Requested by <strong>DarkNaruto1994<strong> of DeviantArt. RaphxDon ftw!


	24. 23 Who Says

#23 – Michaelangelo and Leonardo  
><span>Who Says<span> – Selena Gomez  
>mild turtlecest<p>

* * *

><p>Mikey sighed as Leo shoved him in their room, then stood in front of the door, arms crossed. Hell, Mikey knew that stance. And he probably deserved the lecture that was coming but… Not today. Not after everything that had happened. He wanted to curl under the covers and wait the rest of the day out in the dark.<p>

"Mike."

He shivered; that _definitely _was not Leo's lecture voice. That was the soft, emotional, silky-smooth voice Leo reserved only for him when they were alone. He felt better already.

"Yeah?"

Leo didn't answer; instead, he stepped forward and rested his hands on Mikey's neck, bringing their foreheads together. His warm chocolate eyes stared into electric blue ones. Mikey swallowed hard.

"Leo, I…"

"Tell me," Leo whispered, a crease in his brow as he frowned. "Tell me what's upset you so. Was I gone overly long on my run? Tell me what happened."

"I- I broke some of Donnie's glass tube things," Mikey replied miserably, knowing he was dooming himself but unable to resist that caring look on Leo's face. "It was an accident this time. _Honest._ Raph made me laugh at this joke, and I leaned to the side, and my elbow hit the rack and they just went everywhere…" He bent his leg back, pointing at his foot. "Still have some bits in my heel but Donnie said I could get them out myself."

Leo huffed gently, but only prompted him with a nod.

"He… Donnie got really mad. I mean, really mad. Apparently they were full of this stuff he was experimenting on and I didn't know how close I was to the shelf. You know how he gets when I break stuff on purpose? This was, like, _three _times worse. He was yelling and waving his arms and cussing up a storm and Raph… He just sat there, laughing. And- And I dunno, Leo, I just… I just feel down after that. Useless. Stupid."

Leo nodded again, his hands cupping the base of Mikey's head before he stepped away and out the door. "Wait here."

Mikey blinked, then sat heavily on the bed. What was Leo doing? Fearless Leader was, sometimes, the most unpredictable of all of them. Mikey _loved_ that.

He was surprised when Leo returned with a basin of hot water and set it by his feet. He was even more astonished when Leo also settled on the floor, looking up at him with kind eyes.

"Soak them," Leo said, guiding his feet to the warm water. "That will make it easier to clean the glass."

Mikey felt like he could melt into a puddle and drip into the basin. He really wasn't going to lecture- and he was going to help, even when Mikey knew he'd messed up so badly. "Leo- I- I broke the stuff, I'll deal with it-,"

Leo chided him gently to be quiet, and Mikey clamped his mouth shut. Instead, he closed his eyes, concentrating on the feel of Leo's rough-padded fingers brushing his skin, carefully prying the hurtful pieces loose, then soothing the small wounds with the warm water.

Finally Leo pushed the basin away and toweled off Mikey's feet before crawling up onto the bed to sit beside him.

"Thanks," Mikey whispered; smiling when Leo nuzzled his face in response. "Why aren't you mad?"

"It was an accident, Mike. I don't expect you to never make a mistake."

"Yeah, well, tell Donnie that," Mikey said darkly. "And Raph, for that matter. He was so damn smug teasing me about…" He sighed, turning to curl against Leo's chest.

Leo wrapped his arms around his shoulders, his damp fingers leaving moist trails on sea-green skin. "Who says you're not perfect, Mike?"

"Donnie," Mikey spat.

"Well, I think you are."

Mikey glanced up, frowning. "But- Leo, I'm not perfect. I can't be- You know that, you've even said that before-,"

"Forget what I said before," Leo chuckled. "Alright. So you're not perfect- yes, logically, none of us can be. But I _think_ you are. Besides; Donnie doesn't get to see what I see. The Mikey I get to see just for me."

Mikey clutched desperately at the edges of Leo's plastron, trying to fight the tears collecting at the corner of his eyes. "I think _we're_ perfect."

"I agree."

* * *

><p>Requested by <strong>ChiakiAngel<strong> of DeviantArt. It was so fun to write Leo and Mike again!


	25. 24 Taker

#24 – Donatello and Raphael  
><span>Taker <span>– Alexz Johnson  
>Set in the SAINW universe<br>mild turtlecest

* * *

><p>I had been so pleased to see Raphael, even with the numerous battle scars he sported. The instant smile and too-tight hug was the only happiness I'd found here; but my relief was short-lived. After the questions and explanations and tours had been tended to, I found myself sitting beside Leo in the main area, my heart tugging at me with a wordless prompt I couldn't quite place.<p>

"You should go to him."

I glanced over, arching a brow at the soft insistence in Leo's voice. "Pardon?"

Leo snorted, a sound that surprised me. Leo wasn't supposed to be cynical- but neither was Mikey supposed to have such a grim smile and Raphael be so silent. "If you have to ask, you're more of a fool than I counted you to be."

"Look, I don't know what the hell's going on," I began hotly, and Leo rested a gentle hand on my shoulder.

"I understand, Don. I trust you. I can feel your sincerity. Please, try to see it from his perspective, though. You didn't just leave us, you left _him_- even after you'd promised you never would."

"I didn't leave-,"

"You did," Leo replied flatly. "I am no longer your leader, Don. I'm asking you as a brother, a friend. Please, talk to him. At least give him that much. Give him something to fight for tomorrow. Otherwise, I'm quite sure we'll lose him for good."

My throat closed at that thought, and I nodded as I stood. I half turned to ask, but Leo- being Leo- already knew the question.

"Raph's in the room on the right just past the lab."

As I ran, time seemed to shift and melt around me, and I suddenly found myself staring at the door. Shaking off the weird feeling, I knocked firmly.

Nothing.

"Raph?" I called hesitantly, then bit back a yelp when the door _swooshed_ open.

"What do _you_ want?" he snarled, glaring at me with his fierce golden eye.

My heart ached for the loss of the other before my mind caught on to his sharp tone, and I bristled visibly.

"Can I come in?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"You want to talk about this in the hallway, then?" I asked, attempting a smile; cowering when he roughly shoved his face in mine.

"Ya got five seconds to explain what 'this' is 'fore I shut the door," he growled, and I frowned.

I swallowed, hard. "Us."

His eye narrowed, and when he disappeared behind the door I was afraid he was going to make good on his threat. Instead, he opened it slightly wider and motioned me in with an irritated gesture. His admittedly justified anger was seeping into my mind, and against my will I could feel my composure slipping.

"Raph, I'm sorry-," I started, but he cut me off.

"Been waitin' to see if you'd get around to apologizing," he snarled. "Well, apology not accepted. That it?"

"No." His hostility was making me nervous. "Raph, I am sorry. I don't know what happened-,"

"I do," he snapped. "You fuckin' left me."

"I would never leave you," I retorted.

"Ya think ya know but ya don't," he hissed. "Ya think ya know everything but ya don't. You think yer right but yer wrong. _You left me_."

"But I would never even _want _to leave you," I said desperately. "No matter how bad things were!"

He laughed; the first laugh I'd heard since I'd arrived, and it was full of heavy misery. "Don't change the fact that ya did. One stupid little argument, one little fight and ya ran out on me."

I tried to respond, but his hand shot out and gripped my neck, squeezing roughly with dark intent. "No, you fuckin' listen. I don't care what you've told yerself; what lies you used to convince yerself that yer not a monster. Y'know, Don, we always thought you were a giver; ya gave us so much, gave me so much. But ya ain't." His eye flashed with anger as he pressed me harder against the wall. "Yer just a fuckin' taker. Ya took my words and love and heart and soul and ya ran so far away I _couldn't_ find you."

His anger cracked, and I saw the underlying emotion; the intense aching hurt, and it bored into my chest and twisted my heart.

"O-Okay," I choked, "But _I don't know_ what happened. _Please,_ believe me. One second we're at home, the next second I'm here in this horrible _nightmare!_"

"It is a nightmare, Don," Raphael whispered. "'Cause you ain't been here for thirty years."

"Whatever this place's Donatello did to you was unforgivable!" I wheezed, tugging insistently on his chokehold. "But- But I'm here now, and I will pay for his mistakes. M-Maybe you're right, Raph. Maybe I am a taker. But I n-never meant to break your heart."

I gasped as his hold released and in the same swift movement crushed me to his chest. His arms wrapped around me possessively, as if he were afraid I'd float away. He probably was.

"Forgive me, Raph," I said brokenly, my voice muffled against his shoulder. "I don't know what I did to you; I don't know how it started; but I will sure as hell _finish_ it."

The anger left him in a rush, and he crumpled against me, the tears soaking my neck as we clung to each other.

* * *

><p>Requested by <strong>GemiDonnie<strong> of DeviantArt. Absolutely loved writing this; thank you for giving me such a great song to work from!


	26. 25 Never Yours

#25 – Raphael and Leonardo  
><span>Your Woman<span> – White Town  
>mild turtlecest<p>

* * *

><p>When I sat on the bed, Leo looked away from me, and I snapped.<p>

_I fucking snapped_.

I grabbed the nearest object and threw it at his head- too bad it was a pillow. Nice, Raph, demonstrate all that pent-up anger with a _pillow_.

"That's it, Leo," I snarled, and his head whipped back around to look at me in surprise. I wasn't fooled by the innocent expression- he knew damn well what I meant. "Yer insane. Ya know that, right? Yer just friggin' insane."

"Dare I ask?"

Great. He was upset, so he was covering it with his stupid holier-than-thou attitude. At least I knew I was getting under his skin.

"Stop drawing this shit out," I said irritably. "Just say what ya gotta say. Tell me the truth. We're done, ain't we?"

There was a crack in his composure, and I cheered silently. "Why? Do you think we are?"

"Hell yes I do. Know why? 'Cause you've already decided that. So cut the crap and tell me we're through."

His look of sadness and uncertainty hurt more than I thought it would. I'd called him out on his wishy-washy attitude of the last few weeks, and I was right. We were over- he just had 'forgotten' to let me know.

"What _is_ it with you, Leo?" I exploded, taking comfort in the building rage inside me. "First it was Donnie. _Don, Don, Don_. The whole fucking world revolved around Donnie. When I finally got the guts to tell you how I'd always felt about you, you broke it off to be with me- which I still hate. Still. An' now what? Yer goin' after Mikey next?"

A flash of hesitation flickered in his eyes, and I was stunned that I was right, again. I leaned forward, grabbing his shoulders and shaking them violently.

"_Are you shitting me?_ I hit the nail on the head _there,_ too? And whaddya gonna do when yer done with Mike, huh? What then? 'Cause lemme tell you something, Fearless," I hissed, pulling him toward me, "ya can't just go recycling through us every goddamn year. Do it to me, fine. But you break Donnie's heart again, or do this whole goddamn scene with Mikey, and I swear to any gods listening I will run you through with your own sword." I shook him again for emphasis. "You can't just use us up and toss us away when the newness wears off, you fucker."

He just sat there, staring miserably at me as I huffed from my tirade. When his expression only deepened as my words sunk in, another revelation hit me.

Leo didn't mean to hurt Donnie, or me. He was as confused as I was.

Briefly, a pang of doubt shot through me, but my resolve immediately stiffened.

"I ain't gonna let you use us like cheap whores," I spat, and he visibly cringed. "I don't give a shit if that's not yer intentions, Leo. That's what yer doin', whether ya mean to or not. And I'll swallow my own sai 'fore I let ya do this to Mike. So you better think long an' hard 'bout what yer thinkin' 'bout starting."

He looked away again, which angered me yet again.

"Look, Leo. Yer a great guy. S'why we wanted ya in the first place. But you… You got this idea of romance up on a pedestal. I dunno how it started, but ya hold us to a standard we can't never achieve." I roughly shoved him away and stood, my hand already on the door. Pausing, I turned back to give him one last glare.

"The way yer goin' about it, we can't never be the right kind for you."

I left when I saw his mask darkening from the tears.

* * *

><p>Requested by <strong>JoinInTheChant<strong> of DeviantArt. Wow, this was tough to write. I hope it's not too over-the-top.


	27. 26 Night of the Hunter

#26 – Leonardo  
><span>Night of the Hunter<span>  
>ReferencesSpoilers to the '07 TMNT movie

* * *

><p>I settled on the treelimb, easily hidden from sight by the large glossy leaves. The smoke wafting from the bonfire below me curled around my face, and my nose crinkled involuntarily. It wasn't a normal fire- herbs and plants and odd <em>things <em>had been thrown into it, corrupting its flame and smell.

Half-dressed men bellowed and snorted and sang; they held hand-carved bowls filled with a dark liquid that made the fire grow and lick at the air like a starving animal. Their chanting was punctuated by feeding the fire in the silences between their guttural utterances.

The locals called them cultists.

I call them murderers.

I tracked them here after the last gruesome murder was discovered in a village several miles from here. The young woman had been away from town, to wash clothes, I believe, and a search party was formed when she hadn't returned that night. I silently joined them after the alarm went out. Unfortunately, I hadn't been the first to find her body, and I'm afraid the poor child who did will be scarred mentally for life.

The girl had been strung up by her ankles, hung over the remains of a pit. Her throat slit, her blood collected. Her skin flayed, patches of it missing to reveal the bruised and bloodied muscle and organs beneath.

I overheard she was the fourth victim in as many months, and the nearby ring of villages are in a state of panic. I silently promised them revenge before following the trail of the killers.

I've watched them now for a week. From what I can gather, they consider themselves to be the last of their kind- an overrun and extinct culture. I've witnessed the horrific, sickening uses they have for their collected body fluids. I've seen the grotesque primal god they gibber and babble to in the light of day and wash and worship by night.

They hunt the innocent purposefully for their purity of spirit and body. And tonight, I hunt them for their cruelty and misplaced passion.

One night of the hunter, and one more blackened piece of humanity will be cleansed.

* * *

><p>Requested by <strong>IvyShadow<strong> of Deviantart. This is one of Leo's adventures when he was in Central America.


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